<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Color of Chaos by QueerIsle</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879485">The Color of Chaos</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerIsle/pseuds/QueerIsle'>QueerIsle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Karasuno, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:02:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerIsle/pseuds/QueerIsle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sugawara Koushi/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Color of Chaos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"No! NO! Get away from me! GET OFF!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You felt fingers grip around your arms, pushing you back. A painful weight pressed into your legs, keeping them in place. You sobbed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"But (y/n), I love you..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!</em>
</p><p>You shot up at the sound of your alarm, shaking off the remnants of your nightmare in the process. While attempting to steady your breathing, you wiped the beads of sweat off of your forehead. </p><p>
  <em>That's eight nights in a row, now. </em>
</p><p>You sighed, letting your face drop into your hands. Your heart slowly started to slow its erratic pounding against your ribs. </p><p>"You're okay, just go through your routine. It's the first day of the second term. It'll be okay," you soothe yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. </p><p>Once your breathing settled, you lifted your covers and headed to the bathroom. </p><p>Your morning routine is different, now. You don't have to worry about anyone complaining about the music you put on to wake up. You brush your teeth alone. You get dressed and dance in the mirror by yourself. You make coffee for yourself and no one else. One might see this as melancholic; a reminder that things aren't the same, anymore. A reminder that the life you had and the future you were headed toward are no more. But all you could feel at these times was relief. </p><p>Stepping over a few cardboard boxes, you headed to the kitchen. The gurgle and slosh of your coffee machine comforted you as you scrolled through your social media. Immediately, you went to your sister's profile to check on her. </p><p>You watched your teenage sister attempt to look cool and enticing while lipsyncing to a suggestive song and rolled your eyes. You tapped on the chat bar. </p><p>
  <em>Little miss, it is 7:37 in the morning. </em><br/>
<em>Loving your makeup, though! You     <br/>
</em>
  <em>   better be </em>
  <em>focused on your classes!   </em>
  
</p><p><em>Yes ma'am. When are you coming home? I miss you ):</em> </p><p>
  <em>Soon.</em>
</p><p>That was a lie. The last time you saw your family was only two days ago; you weren't emotionally prepared for another encounter soon. But you can't tell her that, so you keep it vague. You'll be there soon by someone's definition. Maybe not hers, but <em>someone's</em>.</p><p>You frowned at your phone as the familiar desire to search for <em>their</em> profile rose to the front of your mind. Immediately, you locked your phone and poured your coffee into its thermos. Slipping on your shoes, you grabbed your keys and bag to head out the door. </p><p>This is the part you weren't familiar with, yet. Navigating the route to campus. You knew where to go, making the commute yesterday to gauge how long it'll take you to make the trek. It was not the route itself you weren't familiar with, it was the quirks of it. The people who will routinely be in the same place at the same time as you. The number of potholes the bus will inevitably encounter, causing everyone to shift in their positions awkwardly. Will there be a lot of college-age commuters at this time? Will there be a creep I'll need to keep an eye out for? </p><p>Your mind ran through a string of questions as the bus approached. </p><p>Stepping inside the metal beast, you searched your surroundings. </p><p>
  <em>Okay, so definitely a mix of ages. I shouldn't be surprised; this isn't a college town. There are a lot of people here, though. </em>
</p><p>You grabbed onto an overhead handle and positioned yourself between a woman in a business suit and two men around your age engrossed in conversation. You kept the two of them in your peripheral vision, just in case. You were still wondering if there was a creep on this bus you'd need to watch out for. </p><p>
  <em>Bzz. Bzz.</em>
</p><p>You looked down at your phone to see a message from your friend, Akasuki.</p><p>
  <em>Hey, y/n! Good luck on your first <br/>
</em>
  <em>day at a new school! I know you're <br/>
going to have a great day.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thanks, Suki. You don't have any <br/>
classes until tomorrow, right?      </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, so I'm gonna be productive <br/>
and spend this last day of freedom <br/>
staying in bed and binging shows. <br/>
</em>
  <em>Wish me luck!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wish you all the best on this incredibly  <br/>
demanding endeavor. Be sure to put that <br/>
on your CV! Graduate schools need to     <br/>
know how dedicated you are.                  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ah, yes, you're so right! Listen, I also<br/>
wanted to reassure you again about<br/>
the other day. That wasn't your fault<br/>
and it doesn't make me look at you <br/>
differently or anything like that. <br/>
Okay?</em>
</p><p>You frowned at your phone and sighed.</p><p>
  <em>I don't want to think about this, right now.</em>
</p><p>You stared at the message for a moment before locking your phone. The uncomfortable feeling of nerves jumping beneath your skin made you scowl. You could deal with this later. You needed to focus on your first day. You went through the map of the campus in your mind, trying to remember which building your first class was in. </p><p>
  <em>"Whoa!"</em>
</p><p>The bus hit the first pothole of the route, causing the silver-haired man next to you to bump into your side. </p><p>You gasped as a splatter of coffee fell onto your shirt. </p><p>
  <em>Shit. I should've fucking closed the top after that last sip. Idiot.</em>
</p><p>"Fuck, I'm so sorry!" The culprit was staring at you, his hazel-brown eyes wide. </p><p>"Suga, language!" the other man scolded, glancing down at the child sitting in a chair nearby.</p><p>"Oh, shit - I mean, - Wait." He shook his head, his cheeks glowing a slight pink. "I didn't mean to bump into you, I'm really sorry. Do you need a napkin? Gah, I feel so guilty!"</p><p>You clenched your teeth for a moment as the pain of the burn started to allay, but kept your tone calm and friendly. "It's fine, it's just a stain. I can wear my cardigan over it."</p><p>
  <em>Ugh! Of course, this would happen today! Okay, just breathe. Like you said, you can just wear your cardigan. All day. In September.</em>
</p><p>You brought a cardigan just in case the classrooms would be freezing. But now you'll have to wear it walking between classes in 80-degree (F) weather. </p><p>"Are you sure? Was that coffee hot, are you hurt?" His brows knit together as he inspected your face.</p><p>You were fully aware that this man's actions were objectively nice. But in that moment, when your nerves were already high, they felt <em>so annoying</em>. </p><p>You raise your hand to stop him. "You're good, don't worry about it." You gave a small smile then turned away, indicating you were done with the conversation. </p><p>"Uh, well- Ah!"</p><p>Two potholes, so far. And two times you've been bumped into by Silver Slipper, here. This time, he grabbed your arm to keep himself steady. Thankfully, the top to your thermos was sealed shut. </p><p>You glared up at him for a moment but caught yourself when you saw how wide and apologetic his eyes were. This was the first time you looked him directly in the eyes, and they were all you could see. Wide, round, and warm. </p><p>"I-I'm sorry!" </p><p>The man standing next to him started snickering. "Man, you must have two left feet."</p><p>His apologetic face turned into a scowl, and he whipped his head over to his friend. "Says the man who trips over himself doing the macarena!"</p><p>"The macarena is just your arms."</p><p>"Exactly!"</p><p>You couldn't help but laugh a bit at that, bringing their attention back to you. You saw the corner of the silver-haired man's mouth pull up into a crooked smile.</p><p>The bus pulled into your stop just then, pulling you away from the spectacle in front of you. As soon as the doors opened, you darted out. </p><p>You were still a bit annoyed, and honestly a little suspicious. Was he bumping into you on purpose? </p><p>
  <em>Whatever, I'll just avoid him going forward. </em>
</p><p>You grumbled to yourself for a moment, pulling your cardigan on. Damn, this was going to kill you. You were already getting pretty warm just walking to your first class. Hopefully they'll have the air conditioning pumping. </p><p>You took in the view of the campus. Your mental map of the place was pretty accurate, but you didn't have a sense of what everything really <em>looked</em> like. There were a few nice, big trees for people to gather under. Not that there were any people gathered under them, right now. It's only 8:15, after all; people typically avoid morning classes like the plague. Early morning classes fit perfectly for your schedule, though. It meant that you had an excuse not to work the morning shifts at the cafe. Meaning you didn't have to wake up at 4 am every morning, you can wake up at 7, instead. </p><p>Your eyes darted around, looking for the building your first class was in. You were determined to get there early to make sure you didn't get a seat all the way in the back of the auditorium. Your bad vision could be remedied with glasses, but there wasn't much to be done about your hearing. </p><p>As you continued your trek, you realized that a pair of footsteps echoed yours. You glanced over your shoulder and saw a familiar face - Silver Spiller from the bus.</p><p>
  <em>Shit, is he following me? Is he actually the creep I need to watch out for? </em>
</p><p>You picked up your pace a bit, matching your heart rate. There weren't any people around your immediate vicinity, and you stupidly didn't bring any pepper spray or self-defense items. </p><p>
  <em>If he speeds up, he's definitely following me. </em>
</p><p>"Suga, hold up!"</p><p>Silver Soaker stopped in his tracks and turned to greet his friend. </p><p>
  <em>Oh, thank God. </em>
</p><p>You continued your trek, confident he wouldn't be able to catch up to you now. </p><p>The campus is smaller than you remembered. You took a tour of this place your last year of high school when you were still deciding where to go. This was fairly high on your list and the tuition isn't bad, so it was an easy decision to transfer here. Thankfully, they accepted nearly all of your credits; you'll just need to take an extra course to graduate on time. </p><p>
  <em>Ugh, but still. It's like I'm being punished for no reason.</em>
</p><p>Silently grumbling to yourself, you pulled open the door to your classroom and stopped dead in your tracks. </p><p>
  <em>Oh. </em>
</p><p>Yeah, the campus was small but jeez. You weren't expecting a regular size classroom. You were used to large auditoriums where, if you sat in the back, the professor looked like a faceless blob pacing back and forth across the stage. It feels like you're in high school again, just less decorated. You'll have no trouble seeing or hearing in this room. </p><p>You scanned the four columns of desks.</p><p>
  <em>There can't be more than 40 desks in here. 40 desks? There are only 40 students in this class? </em>
</p><p>You grabbed a seat in the third row and took out your phone. </p><p>
  <em>I should've noticed this when I enrolled. Let me check the enrollment.</em>
</p><p>You scrolled through the website and felt your jaw drop a bit. No. Not 40 students. 20. Only half of this room will be filled up. And that's assuming nobody drops the class.  </p><p>A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "Excuse me, would you mind moving your bag?" </p><p>"Oh, yeah! Sorry!" </p><p>As you pulled your bag under your desk, they moved to sit in the desk behind you. "Thanks! My name is Ishikawa Asuka. I'm a third-year psychology major. And you?"</p><p>You shifted in your seat to face your conversation partner. "It's nice to meet you, Ishikawa-san. My name is (l/n, f/n). I'm also a third-year psychology major."</p><p>"Wait, really? I haven't seen you in any of my classes before. I can't believe we're only now meeting each other."</p><p>You were taken aback. The department is small enough for you to regularly take classes with the same people? You can't recall a single peer that had multiple of the same courses as you at your old university. </p><p>You gave an awkward laugh. "Uh, I actually just transferred. So that's why you haven't seen me around."</p><p>"Ah, that makes a lot more sense," she laughed. "Well, welcome! I'll speak on behalf of the department and say we're excited to have you here. Where are you coming from?"</p><p>"Chukyo University."</p><p>Ishikawa-san's mouth fell open. "Wait, seriously? Chukyo? Why the hell did you decide to come here?"</p><p>You fidgeted in your seat a bit but did your best to hide your discomfort. "Ah, just... Some things didn't work out." You tried to change the focus away from your old university. "I chose this place because there's a good range of focus areas in this psych department. I like having my options open."</p><p>She smiled brightly. "That's great! You definitely made the right choice if you want various experiences. Listen, I'm not sure how things were in your department at Chukyo, but our department is pretty small. And because it's so small, we typically get together for social stuff. Would you want to be added to our cohort group chat?"</p><p>"Oh, wow! Um, that sounds nice!"</p><p>She handed you her phone. "Just type in your number and I'll add you!"</p><p>You added your information to her contacts and handed her phone back. "Is the chat very active?"</p><p>"Ah, not really. We won't be blowing up your phone at all hours, if you're worried about that. It's just used for planning social events or study groups since we have a lot of the same classes."</p><p>"Good morning, everyone!" a penetrating voice greeted the class. </p><p>You turned back around to face your professor, a stocky man with thinning salt and pepper hair. He looked to be somewhere in his late 40s. </p><p>He shrugged off his gray jacket while connecting his computer to the projector. "Welcome... to the Psychology of Learning," he said as he pulled up his slides. "My name is Dr. Handa, and I'll be teaching this course. First off, I know it's early in the morning, but I'm letting you know now that I am very excited for this course. So expect a lot of energy in the mornings! As you can see, we've got a bit smaller of a class this year, which makes it easier to do class activities. This means that every class, you're going to be split into groups of four to discuss the topics covered in your readings. You don't have to stay in the same seat every class, but you will always be grouped with the people nearest you. Since we're all going to be working together, let's go around and introduce ourselves. We'll go around the room, and I want you to tell me your name, major, and a fun fact about yourself. We'll start here. What's your name, miss?"</p><p>You felt your heart jump a bit in your chest.</p><p>
  <em>Introductions? I haven't had to do that since high school. What's a fun fact about me? A fun fact... Fuck!</em>
</p><p>You won't have the same sense of anonymity at this school as you had grown accustomed to. You hadn't realized how comfortable it was to remain a nameless peer in the crowd. But now that comfort was being stripped away.</p><p>The person in front of you finished their introduction and turned their attention to you, waiting for you to speak. </p><p>"Uh, my name is (l/n, f/n). I'm a psychology major, and my fun fact is that I grew up in America."</p><p>"America, wow! And you're in the department! It's always great to see a fresh face," Dr. Handa smiled at you, then turned his attention to Ishikawa-san who started her introduction. </p><p>You inhaled through your nose and out through your mouth as you attempted to settle your nerves. </p><p><em>That wasn't so bad. I didn't stutter, I should be proud of myself.</em> </p><p>"Hi, everyone." </p><p>The silvery voice snapped you away from your thoughts. </p><p>
  <em>Wait...</em>
</p><p>You turned your head to the speaker sitting next to you.</p><p>"My name is Sugawara Koushi."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>